Yesterday, in the four hours between sunrise and noon, the weather here was quite lovely. The sky was clear and the southerly breeze was warm-ish. Luna and I took a good walk and then headed into the back gardens. She ran all around sniffing the ground in the places where the snow had melted away. I went into the greenhouse where it was a balmy sixty-four degrees Fahrenheit to check on the plants overwintering there. I gave them all a little drink of water, picked up my pruners, and left the plants to slumber on.
Outside, of course, it was much cooler, but I still spent about an hour pruning some of the dead blackberry canes from their bed. I heard a chickadee (a beloved little bird) calling out. I checked the witch hazel to see if it was flowering early. It wasn’t, which is good. Instead, it is covered in tightly closed buds just as it should be in January.
The morning, the garden, and the work, were a dose of much needed medicine. A tea of sunshine, movement, muddy soil, and the smell of manured fields carried on the light wind, strengthened my body and soul, quieted my mind. The pruning shears in my hand, and my attention to the canes as I cut out what is dead and left what is living, were a salve for a woman aching to do something to set the world right. By lunchtime the wind had shifted to the west, bringing in clouds and colder air, nudging me back into my house.
Then, of course, the world saw more. We saw a smiling, calm, young woman protesting peacefully. We saw an angry man with a gun. We heard her words, and his. We saw, again, what he did. Heard what he called her. It made someone I love weep. I hate it when anyone hurts anyone, but I have a visceral reaction when someone makes someone I love cry. It is hard for me to bear. I am still working through that. It kept me up in the wee hours.
I do not know what fresh atrocities today will bring. I do know my own intentions for the day: that I stand for the good; that I love my beloveds, and lean into loving those who are very hard for me to love; that I remember to breathe; that I remember we are all here, now, on purpose; that I stay centered in Mystery; that I write, and speak, hold, and love this day and all my sisters and brothers as best I can. As best I can.
Courage my dears. Hold to your humanity, dwell in the love of God, open your heart to the world, do these things as best you can. Love one another.
